


without you to hold i'd be freezing

by milominderbinder



Series: maia's shameless fic a day in the month of may [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Drunk Ian, M/M, Silly Drunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milominderbinder/pseuds/milominderbinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey comes home one night to find Mandy passed out on the couch, and Ian waving an empty bottle of Bacardi around his head.</p><p>As it turns out, Mickey's boyfriend is the silliest drunk <i>ever</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	without you to hold i'd be freezing

Ian is laughing.

Ian is more than laughing, actually.  Ian is like, _crazy_ fuckin’ giggling, clutching at his sides and swaying on his feet.  And then a moment later _not_ swaying on his feet, but instead landing on his butt on the carpet.  For a second, his whole face goes still, eyes open wide and staring at Mickey in shock, like a gormless fucking idiot.

Then he’s laughing again, and Mickey’s rolling his eyes.

He’s not totally sure how Ian got _so_ drunk.  He’d been hanging out with Mandy while Mickey was at work, and when he’d come back, he’d found Mandy passed out on the couch and Ian dancing around the room waving a bottle of Bacardi over his head.

As soon as he’d seen Mickey, his face had lit up, and he’d tried to run over and greet him.  Only he’d ended up tripping over his own big feet and landing with his face in Mickey’s crotch.  Which, while not totally unpleasant for Mickey, had simply set Ian off on his huge laughing fit.

“Alright, giggles, I think that’s enough fun for you,” Mickey says, rolling his eyes and dragging Ian up off the carpet.  Ian’s dropped his bottle of Bacardi but it was mostly empty anyway so it’s just sitting there sadly on the floor, not spilling all over the carpet or anything.  Ian immediately flops against Mickey’s side, grinning stupidly.

After a moment, he leans over and pokes Mickey’s nose.

“ _Boop,”_ he says, and then starts rolling about laughing again.

Mickey tries to school his expression into a scowl - he really, _really_ does try.  But Ian’s just - Ian’s just so fucking _drunk,_ and his laugh makes Mickey want to laugh, his smile makes Mickey want to smile.  It’s ridiculous, Mickey knows, even as his disobedient mouth curves into a grin.  He’s so silly for Ian Gallagher.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” Mickey says, hoping Ian won’t notice his smile.  Ian’s humming something loud and tuneless, but as soon as Mickey speaks, he stops, flings his arms around Mickey’s neck and starts nodding so fast Mickey thinks his head’ll fall off.

“Yes, _bed,”_ he says, pushing his fumbling fingers into Mickey’s hair.  “And then i’ma fuck - fuck you up - up your - up your _butt.”_

Ian’s giggling so hard he can’t actually get the words out right.  Mickey can’t help it, laughs along with him as he begins guiding a stumbling Ian towards the bedroom.

“Man, if you can get it up right now I’ll give you a thousand fucking bucks,” Mickey says, rolling his eyes.  “You’re so wasted you can’t even _walk_.”

That’s painfully true - even with Mickey’s help, Ian’s clutching at the walls and tripping as they walk towards Mickey’s room.

“Can too!” he says.  He suddenly stops moving, and his fumbling hands fly to the button of his jeans, tugging and trying to get them open.  “Look, watch.  I’ll - I’ll be hard in a _second,_ Mick!”

He doesn’t actually have enough control over his limbs to get his jeans open, though.  Mickey watches for a second with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed.  Then Ian seems to forget what he’s trying to do, suddenly looking back up at Mickey, eyes wide like he’s suddenly figued out the secrets of the universe.

“Your name rhymes with _dick,”_ he whispers.

“Shut up,” says Mickey, but it’s too late.  Ian’s already laughing so loud he’s gonna wake up half the street, flinging himself against Mickey’s body.

“Gonna - gonna fuck _Mick_ with my _dick,”_ he says, and then presses his face into Mickey’s neck to stifle his giggles.  “Mick on my dick, Mick on my dick, Mmmmmmmmick on my dick.”

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere _near_ your dick tonight, man,” Mickey says.  He shoves Ian in the shoulder and finally gets him to starts walking again, and they push through the door to their room a moment later.  Ian immediately hops onto the bed, rolling onto his stomach and cuddling into one of the pillows.

“Mick dick,” he says contentedly, seemingly to himself.  Then he starts giggling again, pressing his face into one of the pillows.

Mickey realises he’s not gonna get much co-operation from Ian on this, so he rolls his eyes and crosses the room, pulls Ian’s shoes off, and then, when he manages to get Ian to roll over onto his back, his jeans.  

“Whooo!” Ian cheers, when he’s finally wearing just his boxers and t-shirt.  “Mick dick!  Le’s do sex, Mick.  With your dick.”

Mickey just shoots Ian a _look,_ trying not to laugh, and toes off his own boots, then pulls off his pants.  He’s not gonna fuck Ian while he’s in this state, just wants to fall asleep beside him because it’s been a _long_ fucking day, but he’s impressed to notice that Ian’s dick actually starts getting hard.  Ian’s dedication to horny teenage boy-ness even when totally wasted is actually kinda impressive.

“No sex for you,” says Mickey.  “An’ you can pass the message along to your friend, there, too.  Sleep it off, man.”

Ian pouts, but rolls back over onto his stomach with a resigned sigh.

A moment later, he’s giggling again.  Mickey lets himself grin, now that Ian can’t see him.  Ian’s so fucking _cute_ when he’s drunk, Mickey doesn’t really understand it.  When _he’s_ drunk he only ever gets sad and mopey and annoyed, but Ian manages to turn into a three year old, acting more like he’s high than boozed up, laughing at everything and trying to make friends with things like hairdryers and potted plants.  Ian right _now_ is talking to his pillow.  Something about feeling bad for squashing it with his face every night.  How he’s gonna buy it chocolate and a new pillow case to say sorry.

For a quick second, Mickey closes his eyes.  He’s not sure why, but sometimes he just doesn’t actually feel like he can _contain_ all his feelings for Ian Gallagher.  Who is so fucking cute it physically hurts, and so dumb and ridiculous and yet clever and serious at the same time.  Who is the silliest drunk Mickey has ever met.

Mickey crawls into the bed next to Ian, and pulls the pillow out from under him, plonking his own head down onto it and rolling so he’s facing the door, like always.

“Stop talking to the fuckin’ furnishings and go to sleep,” he says.  “Sooner you sleep this off, the sooner we can bang.”  
  
Ian immediately goes silent and still, snuggling up to Mickey’s back.  Mickey grins into the sheets, takes a couple deep breaths to slow his racing heart down a little.  He thinks _he_ might be the one who has more trouble sleeping.

Until, that is, Ian bursts into another fit of giggles which shake his body so much he falls off the edge of the bed.

It’s gonna be a long night.

Mickey doesn’t especially care, though.

**Author's Note:**

> for the fic-a-day-in-may challenge, and the anon prompt from tumblr: _Ian's being a silly drunk and Mickey just loves him (:_
> 
> also yes the title is from 'drunk' by ed sheeran, ~ so original ~ i know
> 
> send me more prompts on tumblr: [mickeymilk](http://mickeymilk.tumblr.com).


End file.
